


Got me guilty

by nitorisource



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Blood, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitorisource/pseuds/nitorisource
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke is unwillingly whisked into the exact kind of fast-paced, dangerous lifestyle he <em>doesn't</em> want, but after a single chance meeting with Agent Tachibana, he can either tag along or die at the hands of people who've already pegged him as a threat. Makoto is sorry for dragging him into this world... except he's not really sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got me guilty

**Author's Note:**

> another coffee shop au?? just kidding it's a bunch of guns and car chases and explosions actually this was rly fun and silly to write. also sousuke is grumpy and swears a lot, and i promise makoto is not as cool a spy as he'd like you to think  
> that [secret agent au](http://soumakofics.tumblr.com/post/96412746941/i-want-a-secret-spy-au-where-makoto-is-your) B)

The coffee shop, like every Monday of every week, is over-packed and understaffed today. Sousuke can only make so many java chip, espresso shot, hazelnut pump, caffeine-laden drinks before feeling too overwhelmed, and he wishes fervently for his shift to come to an end, though that won’t happen for another four hours. On top of that he’s still got a paper to write, just like the group of college students sitting in the corner hurriedly trying to plagiarize off of one another.

“Yamazaki, do you mind switching with me?” one of his coworkers pleads, exhaustion written all over her face. Although he hates the prospect of having to deal with awful, impatient customers head-on, he feels sorry enough for her that he simply nods and takes her place at the register, her words of praise and thanks showering generously over him as he takes the next order.

A few customers later, the monotony of his job is broken as someone ducks in through the door and begins to weave through the line, muttering his apologies until he gets to the front and nudges a teenage girl out of the way before she has a chance to rattle off her order.

“Is there a restroom I can use here?” the man asks, beaming at Sousuke despite how out of breath and disheveled he is.

“You just cut everyone in line, sir,” he replies. Sousuke eyes the friendly man warily, thinking this guy can’t be any older than himself, even with that droopy, happy expression he’s wearing.

In fact, he’d mistake this person as another college student in their quaint college town if it weren’t for the fact that he’s dressed up ready to attend a business meeting. The sleeves of his white, pressed dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, he’s got an expensive looking jacket draped over one arm, and his loosened black tie is sticking out of his dark-gray waistcoat, the tie clip askew. He's holding onto a heavy-looking shoulder bag with an expensive looking watch on his wrist. Despite his hasty appearance, from trying to run to catch up to a cab, Sousuke guesses, he still looks rather professional, especially with that pair of designer eyeglasses.

Sousuke knows this guy isn’t from around here, but he doesn’t care to find out anything else.

“It’s very, very urgent,” the man goes on, his green eyes filled with pleading.

Sousuke lets out a sigh, his shoulders drooping. He doesn’t want to deal with this guy for longer than he has to. In fact, he gets the strangest vibe from him, and it’s probably be better to get rid of him quickly.

“Cafe policy says you need to buy something before using the restroom,” he deadpans.

“Do you want me to drink a coffee in the bathroom or something?” he asks, eyes glinting with puzzlement though his lips twitch up in amusement.

“If you’re going to be difficult, I’ll just ask you to leave.”

"Ah, you’ve had a rough day, haven’t you? Fine, just wrap up a muffin for me. Now, may I go?” He lays down a crisp fifty bill on the counter, features lighting up with another smile. “Keep the change, okay?”

Sure, rub your wealth in the face of the struggling college kid, Sousuke thinks bitterly to himself, though he bites his tongue back from releasing some kind of snarky comment, which he’s been reprimanded for by his manager in the past. “Thank you for the patronage,” he says flatly instead. “Can I get a name for this?”

The man stills, staring Sousuke in the eye with a somewhat vacant, thoughtful expression that makes Sousuke uneasy to stand beneath. What, did this guy forget his name or something? He shifts uneasily on his feet.

“Tachibana,” he says finally, re-adopting what is probably his trademark, white-toothed smile. “Thanks.” He briskly jogs off and disappears around the corner, and Sousuke waits until he hears the click of the lock before exhaling deeply and placing his attention back onto his job.

 

It’s about an hour later that someone comes up to the register and complains that the restroom has been occupied for far longer than it should be. Sousuke’s eyes dart to the paper bag on the edge of the counter, his handwriting scrawled messily across the top, and he feels his body swell with dread. He swears to himself that if that strange businessman is still in there--

He asks someone to cover for the register while he removes his apron. He stops at the door at the end of the dim hall. “Excuse me?” he says curtly, rapping his knuckles against the door twice. “Other people need to use the bathroom.”

There’s no response from inside, though there’s light seeping out from beneath the door and he thinks he can hear water running into the sink. He jiggles the doorknob once and sighs in exasperation when he calls out a second time, only to get the same silence.

Maybe he passed out while in there? Sousuke really doesn’t want to go through the more unsavory scenarios of what could be going down in their shop’s only restroom, but he also doesn’t want to have the police come in and break the door down to a dead body or something like that. It’s been an hour, after all, and his mind is already whirring with worst possible scenarios. He takes out his keys and says, “Look, I’m coming in,” and gives the guy his last ten seconds to respond before unlocking the door.

He freezes as soon as he sees the murky, red-pink water spilling from the sink to the white-tile floor, and his eyes move up to make contact with the pale, sweaty face in the mirror. Those deep green eyes widen when they make contact with Sousuke’s, and the man turns around slowly, a strained smile on his lips, as he removes his eyeglasses.

“Well, that’s a little rude,” Tachibana says in a shaky voice. "I'm still using the restroom."

“I - I was knocking on the door. And asking - “ His tongue twists on his words when he notices where all the blood has been pouring from. He's trying to hide it behind his back, but Sousuke can see from the mirror that on the arm Tachibana was hiding with his jacket earlier there are at least five puncture wounds. When Sousuke looks him up and down again, he notices the darkening spot on Tachibana’s waistcoat, near his shoulder, as well. It’s already dyed part of his white shirt a muted red.

“Ah, were you? I didn’t hear.” Tachibana presses his lips into a tight smile, seemingly trying to grapple for an adequate explanation or lie for his situation, but he has to hold himself upright with his good hand on the porcelain sink, his legs shaking slightly. He sighs out instead. “Right, well. If you’d be so kind as to close that door for me…”

With mechanical, stiff movements, Sousuke does as he’s told, stepping into the cramped room and keeping his eyes locked onto Tachibana’s as he shuts the door behind him. There’s no way he can simply turn on his heel and leave this bleeding guy in the restroom, but his guard is up high.

“Are those bullet wounds?” he asks quietly.

“Yes. Yes, and they’re all still stuck deep in my flesh. I can’t seem to get them out.” He says this very casually, as though he talking about his baking preferences or something else mundane instead of an alarming injury.

“Why the hell didn’t you go to a hospital instead?” he asks, thinking back to the way this man walked into the coffee shop with smiles and small talk not too long ago.

“Hah. I’m sure they’ve already got that place swarmed. I'd be good as dead there.” He pauses for a moment, exhaling sharply, before adding, “If you’ve got a first aid kit lying around, that’d do me some good.”

“You need some goddamn _professional_ help. It looks like you’ve lost too much blood, like you’re going to pass out any second. Let’s go.” It’s not quite concern that’s he’s acting out on, but mostly just fear of having to watch someone have to die in front of him. He’s not one to get skittish around blood or gore, but seeing the way this guy tries to play it off with that calm look on his face makes Sousuke’s skin crawl.

“Wait, really, I don’t want to trouble--”

As soon as Sousuke swings the door open, Tachibana’s entire body tenses up, his eyes locking on the three figures across the hall that have walked into the shop.

“Oh, god," he mutters quietly. His mouth turns down a little, like he’s come across a mild inconvenience (Sousuke is soon to find out that is much, much more than some _mild_ goddamn _inconvenience_ ). His expression changes rapidly, losing the tired edge to it, and he says quickly, “Hey, listen, does this place have a back door?”

“ _What?_ ”

Tachibana grits his teeth as he pushes himself away from the sink, gathering his things from the floor and swearing lightly as he pulls his jacket over his bad arm.

“We’ve gotta go. Now.”

* * *

 

 _'Someone’s got a gun,'_ is all Sousuke can think through the mess of hysteric screams and shattering glass and goddamn _gunshots_ that erupts behind him. He’s being roughly pulled along by the man in the business suit - correction, the _bleeding, suspicious, potentially dangerous_ man in the business suit - down the back alley of the coffee shop. It’s taken him a few moments to connect the dots that those thugs with the firearms must be the ones who inflicted bullet wounds on Tachibana in the first place, so once the realization strikes him, he becomes very concerned about the bloody hand ( _‘Doesn’t that arm hurt to use?’_ Sousuke has been wondering) Tachibana has gripped tightly on his wrist.

“Hold - hold on!” he says, digging his heels into the pavement once they make it out onto the busy sidewalk. People are running in all directions in response to the commotion, and he can already hear the police sirens blaring in the distance. Surprisingly, there’s an undercurrent of panic also present in Tachibana’s green eyes, which is probably the least reassuring thing Sousuke could use right now.

“What the hell is going on?” His voice is still steady, though it wavers towards the end.

“I can’t explain now, we’ve got to run,” is the only answer he gets, and Tachibana pulls again on Sousuke’s wrist with surprising strength that the taller man can’t fight against, so he gives in to matching his stride, which is unexpectedly agile for someone who could hardly stand in the restroom earlier.

“Are those guys trying to kill you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain right now,” he repeats, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Please, until we reach somewhere safe--”

“Why do you have to drag _me_ along with you?”

Before Tachibana can open his mouth again, a gruff voice in the crowd behind them yells, “Shigino! We’re not letting you get away again, you bastard!” followed by another round of bullets into the air.

 _‘Shigino?’_ Sousuke thinks, ready to blurt out another round of confused questions. He has yet another reason upon his growing list of reasons not to trust this guy; to turn the other way and run like hell, if only he could.

“It’s a fake name,” Tachibana says quickly, ducking his head and shoving Sousuke into the nearest alley without warning as bullets whiz past them. He turns around, digs out a small pistol from his bag, and points it with his left hand towards the offenders, the crowd of pedestrians clearing an empty pathway for him to aim down.

“Start running that way!” he shouts at Sousuke, firing away. Sousuke can’t see from where he’s laying but he hears one of those burly men cry out in pain and a heavy body falls to the ground, so he picks himself up and staggers down the narrow alleyway as he’s told.

By the time he takes the chance to glance over his shoulder, Tachibana is nowhere to be found. He emerges on the other end and whips his head around in frantic search of the brunet, though it seems like he’s come full circle with the coffee shop only a few storefronts down. The streets are mostly devoid of panicked civilians until the eerie silence is pierced by a gray car zooming down the road, which skids to a screeching, rubber-burning stop in front of him.

“Get in!” Tachibana yells through the open window. Just up the street, a sleek, black sportscar is going for them at full throttle, and his eyes widen at the way someone leans out of the passenger window and reveals another gun from his coat pocket, so before Sousuke can regret his decision, he throws the passenger door open and jumps inside.

“Sorry.” Tachibana’s eyes are frantic as they scan the road and flick back into the side mirrors. There’s no way they can outrun their pursuers with some regular family SUV, and they both know it. “I’m terribly, _horribly_ sorry for dragging you into this. Take the wheel, please.”

He unclips his seatbelt and starts to lean out of the window before Sousuke even has the time to react, but the bullets that smash through their back window springs him into taking the steering wheel, and he tries his best to ignore the fact that they’re being shot out. From the rearview mirror, he catches the way one of Tachibana’s bullets snags on the guy leaning out of the sportscar window. The shooter retreats inside, though that does little to stop them from gaining on them.

“Are you going to stop them or what?” he yells, sharply yanking the wheel to the right to make the turn. They’re going at about eighty miles an hour and Tachibana nearly falls out of the window.

“I’m trying, alright?” Tachibana shouts back. He yelps when one of their chaser's bullets knocks his gun out of his grasp, and he turns back with his bloody hand outstretched, “Hand me another gun!” He points to the open bag at Sousuke's feet, which he hasn't noticed until now, but he catches a glimpse of the various weaponry inside.

 _'Holy shit, this guy was walking around with a fuckin' arms shop in his laptop case.'_ Sousuke fumbles around in the bag while trying to keep the car steady and his fingers curl around what feels like the cold, metallic handle of a gun.

“Here,” he says, slapping it into Tachibana’s open hand.

“Th-that’s not a gun! Put it back carefully!” he shrieks, reflexively tossing it into Sousuke’s lap. “That’s an explosive!”

As soon as the word _‘explosive’_ leaves Tachibana’s mouth, Sousuke grabs hold of it and he feels his middle finger press down on what is, undoubtedly, a button. He feels all the blood drain from his face and somehow all of the chaos happening outside of the car feels very insignificant.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself.

“D-don’t tell me.”

“Shit, I pressed it!” This can’t be it. Shit, he’s losing his mind, wondering if his last moments of peace were actually spent being pissed off while working in a coffee shop.

“Get rid of it, then!” Tachibana shouts frantically, pulling himself back into the car.

“What am I supposed to do?!” They’re both sitting there screaming at one another while the car jerks arbitrarily from side to side, Sousuke panicking between trying to keep them on the road while also freaking out about the bomb in his hand.

“Just throw it out the window!”

Sousuke tosses it haphazardly behind his back, praying that it makes it out of the open window instead of simply landing in the back seat, and his stomach finally drops out of his throat and back into place when he hears the metallic clink of it hitting the road.

Not a second too late, too, because he feels a strong rush of heat and a loud booming noise in his ears as their car is thrown forward by the force of the explosion. Tachibana nudges Sousuke back to his side of the car and takes control of the wheel, hitting the gas and speeding farther away from the wreckage.

Sousuke turns back to take a look at the scattered fire and shrapnel they’ve left in their wake, one loose tire rolling away from the heap of black scrap metal left burning in the middle of the road.

He nearly forgot to breathe during that whole ride. Now that the immediate danger of being shot at or _fucking_ _exploding_ is gone, he feels his entire body slump limply into his seat, eyes still wide and practically bulging out of his head as he tries to make sense of the past few adrenaline filled minutes.

They pull onto the freeway out of the tiny college town and in the seat beside him, Sousuke can make out an awe-filled whisper of, “You’re pretty amazing,” before he doubles over and hurls all over his shoes.

The rest of the way, Tachibana gives his countless apologies, and Sousuke vehemently wishes he'd sent someone else to check on the restroom earlier while his stomach settles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments/feedback appreciated!! thanks


End file.
